


Some Like It Hot

by KissingWinchesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Coming In Pants, Community: smpc, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 21:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11517870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissingWinchesters/pseuds/KissingWinchesters
Summary: The Impala breaks down on one of the hottest days of summer, but it's not only the heat of the sun that the boys have to deal with.





	Some Like It Hot

“I am sweating like a hooker in church.” Dean swallows, tipping his head back as he does and giving Sam a good view of his Adam’s apple, dewy with sweat like the rest of him.

The click click click sound continues.

“Remember that summer dad dragged us all over Georgia? You were about six. I didn’t think there’d be a summer hotter than that one.”

Sam turns his face to the open window, breathes in air tainted by road dust and not his brother.

“You remember that motel, uhh The Crow’s Nest or something…”

“You stole all those ice pops for us. We ate them in the bathroom.”

Dean laughs, carefree and loud, tapping the back of his hand against Sam’s thigh. Sam can’t help join in and he tears his eyes from the sun baked scenery outside to smile at Dean. He feels carefree too. The heat’s playing tricks on them both.

“You threw up on the bath mat,” Dean continues, nostalgia and fondness making his face soft. “Think you ate two more after though. At least.”

“Dean?” The leather seat creaks under Sam’s ass, the back of his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

“Yeah, I know. Damn it.”

Sam is about to ask if they should stop, but the impala gives a little shudder and the engine cuts off, making the decision for them. Dean compensates for the tires swerving and pulls them over onto the grass verge next to the edge of a small wood.

They get out of the car and Dean opens the hood, leaning in before thinking better of it. The last time Sam checked the temperature on his phone it was pushing ninety eight. The engine would have a few degrees on that for sure.

“Couldn’t have broken down a couple miles back.” Dean closes the hood and lets his hand hover over his baby’s scalding paintwork. He sighs, turning and shielding his eyes to squint at Sam.

“Lets push her down there,” Sam says, pointing through the trees to what looks like a pretty sizeable cabin next to a stretch of water. “Might be someone there who can help?”

“It’s worth a try.”

Dean opens the driver door and releases the hand break while Sam gingerly gets a grip on the edge of the boot. Together, they get the car rolling, carefully getting her down a dirt track into a clearing next to the cabin.

On closer inspection, the cabin isn’t just a cabin but more of a house. Two storeys with a large balcony on the upper level facing a crystal clear lake. There aren’t any windows open, and there are no chairs or towels or anything outside. Still, it doesn’t mean the place is empty.

Once they get the car parked they stand side by side and stare at the place.

“Doesn’t look like there’s anyone home,” Dean says.

“Lets find out, shall we.” Sam strides up to the large front door, crouching and pulling a lock pick from his back pocket.

Dean just shrugs and breathes out a laugh, standing too close, the toe of his boot bumping against Sam’s heel.

It doesn’t take long to get the door opened and they head inside, listening for sounds of movement. Running his finger over the fireplace, Dean figures either the owners aren’t that bothered about cleaning or no one has been there for a while.

“I’ll see if I can get the power on,” Dean says, flicking a light switch on and off just to reinforce the fact that there’s no electricity. “I’d kill for a beer. Don’t suppose you wanna walk back to that store we passed?”

Sam grimaces, but his stomach rumbles and there’s no food in the car.

“If I get heatstroke…”

“You won’t, just walk on the shady side of the road.” Dean winks and sticks his head into a cupboard pushing up some switches, the air-con immediately wurring to life.

“Fine, but don’t just be sitting in here all the time I’m gone, Dean.”

“I won’t be,” Dean grumbles, shoving Sam outside onto the porch. He starts unbuttoning his shirt.

“Right, I’ll uh…” Sam waves his hand in the direction of the road, but he can’t take his eyes off Dean’s fingers slowly revealing his black t-shirt beneath.

“Call me when you get there,” Dean says, pulling off his shirt and hanging it over the railings leading down to the grass.

There are dark patches under his arms, at his collar, but like everything else in his life, Dean even makes sweating look good. Sam on the other hand, he sweats on a cold day, so in weather like this he’s a giant mess. He feels a little self conscious about it, and he pushes his hair away from his forehead, the back of his hand coming away wet.

“Don’t forget beer,” Dean says, his eyes drifting up to where Sam’s hair is now sticking to his face.

“I won’t. I’ll be back soon.”

Dean nods and starts towards the impala while Sam heads off up the dirt track. He lasts about ten seconds until he’s watching Sam walk away. He shakes his head and blinks against the sun stinging his eyes. Sam always was a sweater, and Dean has always had a bit of a thing for it.

It’s something he’s never questioned before, but recently, he’s sort of allowed his thoughts to do what they want. After dying multiple times, becoming a demon, and having the mark of Cain, Dean figures he should stop being so rigid in denying himself so much.

So when he opens the hood and gets hit with a wave of hot air, his mind wanders.

Being in the car with his radiator of a brother had been almost as bad as standing in the midday sun right now. Any exposed skin of his was damp and tempting, and Dean had needed to squeeze the steering wheel until his bones creaked to keep from reaching across to just see what Sam felt like.

Shaking his head, Dean turns his attention to the engine, checking the alternator first and seeing that his instincts were right. The needle baring has completely gone, probably from a little dirt but Dean is sure it’s because of this damn heatwave.

“It’s not your fault, baby,” Dean tells the Impala, cursing the sun beating down on him. He takes off his t-shirt and shoves it into his back pocket. He can already feel the sting of his skin burning, but he’s too damn hot to care.

He tinkers around for a while, grabs the spare alternator he keeps in the trunk (thank god) and his tool box and tries to keep his mind on anything other than Sam.

Which works for about ten minutes because Dean’s phone rings in his pocket and Sam’s voice is in Dean’s head again.

“I’m getting a couple cool boxes or this stuff will be melted by the time I get back,” Sam pants. It does not sound like anything erotic, no sir.

“Hello to you too,” Dean replies, wiping his forehead. “But good idea.”

“Yeah. There isn’t much in here and the air con is basically non existent, but is there anything other than beer you wanted?”

“Hmm, p…”

“There aren’t any pies, I checked.”

“Ahh man. That’s it’s wrong. I don’t know then, cold stuff.”

“That’s so helpful,” Sam says. “I’ll get… I don’t know, stuff. Back soon.”

Sam hangs up and Dean laughs. His brother even sounds too hot. Dean can just picture him in the tiny store, moving aside for little old ladies or reaching sweets from too high shelves for kids. Maybe his t-shirt rides up a little and his stomach shows…

“Get a grip, Winchester,” Dean growls. It’s the heat, it’s got to be, making all of these thoughts come to the surface. All of these desires.

Maybe Sam is feeling it too, Dean’s sadist brain supplies.

It’s true, over the last few months, Dean has wondered if he’s not been so alone wanting something more between them. People have joked about it for years, noticed how close they are and mistaken them for a couple. Dean always laughed it off, so did Sam, but could he really have been imagining all of the lingering looks Sam has been shooting him lately.

No… it’s not enough. Dean can’t do anything unless he’s 100% sure he won’t lose Sam as a result of it, so he’ll put it out of his mind. Nothing would be worth losing Sam over. Dean can deal with pain, he’s been doing it all his life.

It’s not long until Dean loses himself in the familiarity of working on the Impala again, so much so that he doesn’t see Sam get back until he hears his name being called out.

Shielding his eyes, Dean watches a ridiculously overdressed and sweaty Sam striding down the hill towards him.

“Did you get it fixed yet?”

“Hold your freakin’ horses, little brother. I need refreshment.”

Sam rolls his eyes but drops the cool boxes at his feet and bends down to open one and grab two beers. He hands Dean one and twists the top off of his own. Dean doesn’t miss the way Sam’s eyes drop to his bare chest, or the way he tugs at the neck of his t-shirt.

“Lose a layer for fricks sake, Sam.” Dean drinks down almost half of his beer. “Your sweats sweatin’.”

Sam looks down at himself and moves his feet, looking embarrassed like he did when he was a kid. He shrugs off his light brown jacket but leaves his button down on. Dean shakes his head and turns back to the Impala. Seeing Sam so flushed and damp is getting Dean’s blood rushing.

“It’s a pain in the ass, but not anything I can’t put right. Luckily I had the right parts already so we’ll be out of here in an hour or two.” Dean aims to sound natural, but even to his ears he can tell how breathless he sounds.

Sam nods and swallows.

“We should get the car in some shade… you’re burning.”

Cursing himself, Sam tears his gaze from Dean’s chest.

“It’ll be done soon,” Dean says, putting his beer down next to one of the tyres. His jeans slide down his hips slightly when he stands, the lines of his hipbones appearing above the waistband.

“Fine, get burnt,” Sam says, sounding a little dazed.

There’s a smear of grease, engine oil maybe, just under Dean’s left collarbone. Dean knows because he’s watching Sam staring at it.

Without thinking, Sam lifts his hand, dragging his thumb along the black smudge and wiping it off Dean’s skin. His thumb stays where it is once he’s cleaned off the mark, and his fingers curl over the side of his brother’s pec.

It’s fascinating and terrifying for Dean to witness Sam in such conflict, but one sneaky look down at Sam’s crotch and the not so little hint of a boner under his jeans has tipped Dean’s certainty over the 100% mark.

He doesn’t move, Sam’s hand is sweaty, sticking to Dean’s skin and he doesn’t want Sam to stop. God, he wants more of it, to put his hand around the back of his brother’s neck to feel how wet his hair is. But, Sam rips his hand away, his arms moving up and down like he isn’t quite sure what to to with them. Dean would laugh if he wasn’t so turned on.

“Uh, I think I’m gonna…” Sam turns abruptly and walks down to the edge of the water. He stops and starts to turn back, but then he huffs, frustrated, and yanks off his boots before marching into the water in all of his clothes.

“What the..? Sam?!”

Dean follows his brother to the edge of the large pond. Sam is trying to avoid looking at him, but it’s obvious to Dean that he’s finding it difficult.

“You know what, that ain’t such a bad idea,” Dean says, toeing off his own boots and wading into the water up to his knees. “I need to cool off too.”

Sam spins, sending a ripple across the clear surface, looking horrified.

“What? No… you can’t.”

“Why not?” Dean keeps stepping deeper in the water, a smile set firmly on his face.

“You’ve got you’re jeans on.”

Dean laughs and bends his knees, sinking down to his waist into the refreshing lake. He looks at Sam like he’s lost his damn mind.

“Do you have heatstroke? You have about ten layers on, Sam. If you can act like a crazy person then so can I. Besides, the water feels pretty good.”

Sam swallows and wishes that there was some sort of algae growing or that the water was muddy or something because watching Dean get all wet is doing nothing to chase away the erection that just won’t quit. It’s ridiculous. Sam isn’t in goddamn high school, but Dean is so close, looking like a hosed down model and Sam is a sweaty mess.

Dean scoops some water into his hands and pours it over his chest, smirking when Sam’s eyes widen. He shouldn’t be torturing Sam like this, it’s cruel, especially now that it’s obvious that Sam is still hard, but Dean can’t help himself. And Sam will know soon enough how Dean feels.

Being sure to run his fingers over his nipples, Dean plunges his hands into the water and touches his thighs, reaching around to grab his own ass.

“Is it just me or do wet clothes feel damn good?”

Sam just stands there, the hem of his shirt floating around him.

“Cold in all the right places, eh Sammy?”

Dean steps closer his hands still under the water but in front of him now. He keeps them out in front of him until his fingertips bump into Sam’s stomach. Sam nearly jumps a mile.

“We should dry off,” Sam mutters, his lust filled gaze very much south of Dean’s eyes. Sam bites his lip and grabs hold of Dean’s wrist. “Don’t mess with me.”

“I’m not.” Dean pulls his wrist free and splashes Sam in the face. “Ok, maybe I am… but not like that.”

Sam wipes his eyes, moisture still clinging to his eyelashes. He looks so fucking beautiful and so stupid in his soaking wet clothes that Dean can’t help but laugh. Sam’s nose scrunches up.

“This isn’t messing with me?”

“No, no, it’s…” Dean chuckles again and takes hold of Sam’s wrist this time, tugging him closer. “Look at us, man. We’re fully clothed in a lake on probably the hottest day in the history of time and all I want to do is kiss you. I dunno… it’s funny.”

Sam’s face softens from the petulant annoyance that he’s never lost since he was a kid and turns into cautious interest. He’s dripping all over, his nose and forehead look burnt, but Dean has never wanted to touch him more.

Dean is about to ask if he can, if this is ok, but it’s like Sam has been shocked by an electric eel or something because he sends water flying everywhere, meeting Dean half way and crashing their lips together.

“Aw…” Dean hisses.

“Sorry, sorry…” Sam says before going in for a second try, reining in his eagerness a little and kissing Dean with a bit more finesse.

Dean holds Sam close, putting one arm around his waist and one hand on the back of his head. He moans when Sam slides his tongue against his own, and the kiss becomes deeper, more desperate that Dean isn’t even sure if he’s still breathing.

They’re pressed together from head to toe and Dean can feel the bulge that Sam was trying so hard to hide. He breaks away from the kiss, smiling at how Sam chases after him but stopping him with a hand on his chest.

“What?” Sam asks, none of the earlier awkwardness left in his voice. He slides his hand across Dean’s naked shoulders and traces each mile and scar with light touches of his fingers.

“You’re so hot for me.” Dean smirks, biting his bottom lip and sneaking his hand between them, cupping Sam’s erection with his palm. “This didn’t go down and this water isn’t warm.”

“Don’t look so smug,” Sam replies, his eyes closing almost all the way as Dean rubs him through his jeans. “You’re a fucking tease.”

“Me? What about you?”

Sam’s eyebrow lifts when his eyes open.

“You’re joking? I’m a disgusting mess in this weather.”

Dean stares, incredulous. He can’t believe that Sam thinks he’s disgusting. Yeah ok, maybe excessive sweat isn’t everyone’s idea of a turn on, but Dean defies anyone not to be attracted to Sam when he’s all damp and everything clings to every muscle and…

“Dean? You zoned out.”

Dean clears his throat and tries to act sheepish, like Sam won’t know what he’s just been fantasizing about. He reluctantly removes his hand from Sam’s dick and puts it on his cheek instead, running his thumb over Sam’s cheekbone.

“Trust me,” Dean says, grazing his lips against Sam’s, but not kissing him. “You are anything but disgusting.”

“Oh… uh, ok.” Sam breathes out and sways forward, like a magnet caught in the force of something metallic.

Dean slides his hand around the back of Sam’s neck and kisses him again. There isn’t any sound around them, other than the lap of the water and the chirp of crickets and the hungry noises that Sam keeps making.

Even though their hips are together, there isn’t enough leverage for Sam to get a good feel of how hard Dean is too, so Dean moves his hand from around Sam’s waist and strokes Sam’s ass. He’s gentle at first, he wants Sam to think he’s just copping a feel. But Dean has another idea.

He gives Sam’s ass a good squeeze and then thrusts his hips forward, his dick rutting against Sam’s. It has the desired effect, because Sam stops kissing Dean and drops his head down so that they’re forehead to forehead.

“Oh my god,” Sam pants. “Oh god, Dean.”

“Looks like the cold water isn’t affecting me either,” Dean says, kissing next to Sam’s eye.

They stay like that, heads pressed together, slowly rocking against each other. Neither can believe that this is actually happening, but they both feel like a huge weight has been lifted from them. Suddenly everything is as it should be. They’re together, finally.

After a while, Sam gets impatient, achy for Dean’s kisses again. He strokes Dean back, nudges his head up and reclaims his lips. They smile together, it’s messy and uncoordinated, but it’s hot too. So hot. Hands roam, Sam touching every inch of bare flesh he can and Dean’s finding their way to Sam’s waistband. He undoes the button and drags the zipper down.

Expecting Dean to go right for his dick, Sam is kinda surprised that he reaches for his butt instead.

“You know,” Dean says between kisses and remembering to breathe, “when you were trying to hide your hard on, I was looking how good your ass looks. Thank god for clear lakes.”

Sam gasps when Dean brushes his finger against his hole, grabbing onto Dean’s elbow to stop himself from stumbling back.

Dean chuckles, removing his finger. It’s not the place or time to do anything like that with Sam.

“When I get you in bed,” Dean says quietly, his thoughts falling off his tongue involuntarily.

“Tell me,” Sam says, his voice shaky. “What will you do?”

Dean speeds up the rocking motion of his hips. The line of Sam’s cock catches and drags against his own, the stiffness of the denim adding to the friction. Sam kisses Dean’s neck, holding onto him so tightly that Dean can already feel the bruises forming. The water around them turns from ripples into waves, their feet moving in the mud and pebbles to keep from falling on their asses.

“I’d want you naked for a start.”

“Yeah…”

Dean grabs Sam by the hair and drags Sam’s head up to kiss him again, making him really feel it. He’s had enough talking, all he wants is the taste of his brother and to make him fall apart.

Their hips grind against each other, the friction not enough, but just right. Sam feels like a teenager again, touching himself through his boxers with stolen thoughts about the sleeping figure of his brother across from him. The mere fact that he’s so close to coming and Dean hasn’t gotten a hand on his cock yet says it all.

Dean’s finger circles the tight muscle of his hole one last time before he goes back to palming his ass. It’s rough and desperate and Dean can’t believe that they’re doing this for the first time in a god damn lake, but when did they ever do anything the easy way.

Dean could keep Sam on the edge for hours if he could, but getting all wrinkled like a prune is not appealing. There’s a nice dry house to take advantage of, and Dean wants to have Sam in more than just the bedroom.

“Come on, Sammy. Let it go…” Dean whispers, sucking Sam’s bottom lip into his mouth and biting down on it before kissing him hard, drawing blood. He circles his hips, making sure to catch the head of Sam’s cock against himself, repeating the motion over and over until his name spills from Sam’s lips and it all becomes too much.

Sam tenses up, pulling away from Dean’s biting kiss to gasp in oxygen as he comes so hard that his knees buckle. Dean takes his hand out of Sam’s pants and wraps his arm around his waist, squeezing his hip to stop him falling backwards

“Fuck…” Dean watches in awe as Sam shudders in his arms, his eyes captivated by how beautiful he is. He reaches up and touches Sam’s hair, kisses his cheek, his slack lips. He never wants the moment to end.

Sam’s head drops to Dean’s shoulder and he pants against his sun reddened skin, catching his breath.

“That was amazing… Dean, that was…”

“Fucking hot, Sammy. Look at you…”

They stand like that until Sam stops shaking and the water starts to make them feel cold despite the blazing heat.

Dean is aching, his cock trapped uncomfortably in his jeans, but Sam is already one step ahead. Reading his mind, Sam slides his hand over Dean’s stomach, opening the top button of his jeans but not bothering with the zipper. He forces his hand inside, his fingers lifting the waistband of Dean’s briefs and curling over his cock.

“Fuck, yeah, touch me…” Dean tips his head back, thrusting against Sam’s grip.

There’s no finesse, this isn’t the time for that, Sam just needs to feel Dean, to push him over the edge. He can barely move his hand, but holding Dean is enough, and it only takes a few swipes of his thumb over the slit to make Dean come with a shout.

Sam can’t help it, he laughs, pulling Dean against him and bringing his hand up between them. Dean’s come clings to his fingers, and Sam thinks about taking them into his mouth, but he wrinkles his nose and swishes his hand in the water to clean them instead.

When he looks back at Dean, he’s staring at him with satisfaction. But there’s something else there too, something deeper in the way his brother is watching him.

“You ok?”

Dean smiles and nods, and he cups both sides of Sam’s face, kissing him slowly, exploring his mouth with his tongue.

“Mm, my scalps burning, Dean,” Sam mutters between kisses. “Lets go inside.”

Reluctantly, Dean lets go of his brother and puts some space between them. If he looks as manhandled and smug as Sam does right now then Dean will be a happy man. He’s pretty sure he’s in the same state.

Sam does up his pants, watching closely as Dean does the same, and they wade through the water until they’re on dry land.

They walk towards the house, stealing glances and heated smiles, like a couple of love struck kids.

When they get to the car, Dean closes the hood and looks towards the house and then back at Sam. He knows what they just did wasn’t a one off, but as always, the need to protect Sam takes priority over everything, even his own desires.

“Let’s put all this stuff in the fridge,” Sam says, picking up the cool boxes. “Do you wanna see if they have a shower big enough for us both?”

Dean grins and slings his arm over Sam’s shoulders.

“I doubt it’ll be big enough for you, but we can try anyway.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had fun writing this, thanks as always to merakieros for her too good for my ramblings stunning art xoxo
> 
> Check her work out - http://merakieros.tumblr.com/post/163054409443


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